Thursday, August 19, 2004


There are two things I've been pondering since my encounter with the drug dealer last night. First, why did I let some random dude I did not know into the apartment? I had thought that "George" was my roommate's friend but I didn't even ask who he was looking for on the intercom. Second, how much should one tip a drug dealer? A dollar? fifteen percent? I have to say that New York really is the greatest city in America. Where else can you get drugs delivered to you? Hmm, now I wonder how many of those deliveries that my roommate has received were actually for food. Kinda makes you think, doesn't it?


From the AP: "Clyde Vaughan, an assistant basketball coach at the University of Connecticut, was among more than a dozen people arrested Wednesday morning in a prostitution sting run by Hartford police. Vaughan, 42, was charged with patronizing a prostitute and interfering with police after authorities said he tried to pay an undercover officer $10 for oral sex.

Only $10 for a BJ? That's some serious exploitation. The cheap bastard deserved to be arrested.

Blaze it up!

Earlier tonight...

[My intercom buzzes]

Me: Hello?
Doorman: George is here.
Me: What? Who?
Doorman: George. He's here.
Me [confused]: Okayyy.

[5 minutes later there's a knock on the door]

Me: Yes?
[African-American man wearing baseball cap, in T-shirt and jeans]: I'm here about the "cartoon."
Me[baffled]: Huh? What? Could you say that again?
Dude: I'm here with the 'cartoon'
Me: What cartoon?
Dude: Is this [our apartment address]?
Me: Yes. What did you say about "cartoon"?
[Dude takes 3 ziplock bags of pot out of pocket]: This. Weed.
Me [surprised and laughing]: Haha, ok, I don't know anything about that.

The dude then left. He totally made my day. I think he was probably looking for my roommate. And all that time I was wondering which of my neighbors were smoking pot. The bastard!